Out to sea where the sky touches the waters
where lives our beloved Neptune and his daughters
near an island beclouded by the assembling mists
out where the clouds and the glassy waters kiss
where our poet lives in solitude and dreams
where his words come to him in prolific streams
where they take his mind up into the clouds
far away from the clamor of the crowds
where they mingle with the language of the heavens
spoken with an immeasurable air to infinity’s ends
a plea to subdue the turbulence of Planet Earth
getting louder and louder from the time of birth
as poets become rescuers of the disquieted times
with voices too little with irrelevant rhymes
and the world goes on and on and on
and the poets try to soothe it with a song
or a poem about the veneration of man
from his little shack on his lonely island
oh beautiful world, oh beautiful man